Harry Potter’s Book of Sin

Harry was lying on the bed straight, his eyes wide open and his mouth snoring, as if he had run a full marathon.

Just now, he woke up from a very realistic dream, his hands pressed tightly on his face. Under his finger, the lightning-shaped scar was burning, as if someone had pressed a red iron to press it on his forehead.

He sat up, one hand holding the scar, the other hand groping in the dark to get the glasses on the bedside table. He put on his glasses, and the scenery in the bedroom slowly became clear. The lights of the street lights outside the window passed through the curtains, and the bedroom was covered with a layer of orange red soft light.

Harry stroked the scarf again with his fingers, and it still hurts a lot.

He turned on the desk lamp next to him, rolled over to get out of bed, walked through the room, opened the closet, and looked at the mirror inside the door.

In the mirror, a skinny fourteen-year-old boy is also looking at him. Underneath the black hair is a pair of green, confused eyes. Harry looked more closely at the scar on his forehead in the mirror and couldn’t see any abnormality, but it still hurts.

Harry tried to remember the scene in his dream.

Normally, he often dreams, but it is not as realistic as it is tonight… He frowned, concentrated his thoughts, and tried to remember…

There was a dimly lit room in front of his eyes… The fire in the fireplace was not so bright… a man with a black mist around him… and a young, gentle, calm voice… he always felt I have heard it before.

“…Tom Riddle?”

Harry suddenly thought of the thrilling experience of the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets when he was in Second Year.

“Do you say… Voldemort!”

When I think about this guy, I feel like I have a piece of ice slipping into my stomach…

He closed his eyes and tried to recall Voldemort’s appearance, but he couldn’t do it… Harry saw only a back sitting on the sofa, and his body was exuding an unspeakable scent.

In the dream, he only felt a strange fear, and then suddenly woke up… Maybe, is it because his scar suddenly hurts?

Also, who is the old man at the door?

At that time, the guy who was all black was going to open the door – there must be an old man there, and Harry saw him fall to the ground…

Oh, it’s getting more and more chaotic.

Harry buried his face in his hand, not letting himself see the scenery in the bedroom, desperately immersed in the dimly lit room.

However, it’s like trying to hold the water with both hands. The more he tries to grab the details, the more quickly they slip away from his fingers… Voldemort and the weird man just talked about Wormtail, it seems Also talked about… Marx!

“Marx?” Harry was shocked by what he recalled. “What happened to Marx? Why did he mention him… and where is Voldemort?”

He lifted his face from his hand and opened his eyes. He stared at the bedroom all around, as if he thought he would see something unusual.

The room seemed to be a bit messy as always.

At the foot of his bed was a large wooden box that was open to reveal the cauldron, broomstick, black robe and various spells books that Harry had seen before going to bed last night. The pictures on this book are moving all the time. The young man wearing a bright orange red robe rides on the broomstick, sou sou Mobiliarbus, throwing a red ball at each other.

Instead of looking at things that were familiar to him, he went to the window, opened the curtains and looked at the street below.

“Is there such a broken old house on this street?”

It seems that the Nuwa Road is exactly what a respectable suburban street should look like in the early hours of Sunday. The curtains on both sides of the street were pulled tightly. Harry looked in the darkness and couldn’t see a living creature, not even the shadow of a kitten.

However… however…

Harry rested back to the bed with a restless heart, sat down, and stretched out a finger to stroke his scar. What bothered him was not the pain of scar, and Harry had become accustomed to pain and injury.

He is just worried, what kind of relationship does this pain have with Voldemort?

“…scar…Voldemort…Marx…” Harry suddenly stared wide-eyed, looking down to the bottom of the wooden box, “Marx?”

Suddenly he remembered Marx and what he said, and then remembered Professor Trelawny’s prediction about Voldemort’s return.

He remembers that Marx has repeatedly let him go as soon as possible…

Thinking of it, Harry immediately jumped up from the edge of the bed and walked quickly to the big wooden box where he put things, quickly rummaging…

“Hands…hands…have it!”

Looking at this thick note, Harry couldn’t help but recall the Christmas of the year when he first entered Hogwarts. At that Christmas dinner, Marx sent a large number of owls to a large number of people to send a variety of Christmas gifts.

What Harry got was the handwritten “Occlumency” on the cover.

“But, most of the heads here are talking about various spells…” Harry said bitterly. “It’s like the A History of Magic lesson in the last spell…”

He looked at his bedroom helplessly, his eyes on three birthday cards – three of his best friends sent to him last year.

Speaking of it, this year’s birthday is coming soon.

“If I write to them and tell them that scar hurts, what do they say?”

His mind was filled with the sound of Hermione, hu hu, make a fuss about nothing…

“Your scar hurts? Harry, that’s not a normal thing… write to Dumbledore! Let me check out Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions… Well, maybe we should ask Marx…”

That’s right, Hermione would definitely suggest this: Go to the headmaster of Hogwarts and find the answer in a book. If it doesn’t work, she will consider whether it will add some trouble to Marx.

Harry sighed, staring out at the deep blue night sky outside the window.

Marx is a very predictable person and has always been very reliable. Although he always looks busy, as Hagrid said, he always brings warmth to everyone in many details.

In fact, several of them are always taken care of by Marx. For example, now, he seems to have thought of things that he did not even think of.

Harry thought about it, and finally he opened his hand and read it with a hard scalp.

……

And just as Harry forced himself to learn, Hogwarts looked cold and clear. During the holidays, the school suddenly became empty. At dawn, it is even more dead.

Suddenly, a small silhouette walked out of the castle and walked slowly toward the greenhouse.

With the “咔嗒” a light sound, the door to the seventh greenhouse was opened. The silhouette without the slightest hesitation went into the greenhouse and came to an area that was covered by black cloth.

The black cloth was quietly opened a corner, and the silhouette walked calmly in.

It seems that the extraordinarily wide pointed hat on the head is inconvenient. It was gently picked up by its owner and placed on a small shelf on one side.

Suddenly, a dazzling white long hair suddenly fell down, the hair was very long, and it was stretched to the leg.

She shook her head at random, then reached out and licked her hair to the back of her ear. Immediately, a refined cute face that was not often seen was quietly revealed.

This is a special hidden existence of Wynie Blois, the French Blois family.

Wynie calmly looked straight into the flowerbed in front of her eyes. Surprisingly, she seemed to be unaffected by this special magic plant called “mystery.”

She stretched out a delicate little hand and stroked the flower buds; then she took a thick note from the bag that was squatting behind her.

This is the Herbology note that Marx gave her, which records many of the research records and conjectures about “mystery” that Marx wrote before he was taken away.

Wynie took out her own wand and applied a wand radiance and read it carefully.

A little bit past, the darkness before dawn quickly faded, and the sun showed its head from Dongshan. But because it is surrounded by black cloth, the light does not penetrate much.

But at this moment, Wynie suddenly looked up and stared at the flowers, seemingly waiting for something.

Slowly, the flower buds gradually flashed a little bit of crystal, and the outer sun was a little brighter.

After a while, the flower buds slowly opened.

As the petals of one of the “mystery crystals” unfolded, all the flowerbeds stretched out, and the crystallized colors such as starlight made the whole space as beautiful as Immortal Realm.

And the effect of this flower on the creatures also blossomed, reaching the real Peak.

But somehow, Wynie still hasn’t been affected. She just quietly looks at the beautiful and dangerous flowers, and sometimes carefully records what is done with a pen.

At this moment, the flowers began to crystallize from the stamen, and in a moment, spread to the entire plant.

It can be said that until now, they have truly become the rare “mysterious flower” in ancient times. Wynie gently picked one of them and gave a crack in the glass.

“…when others are fascinated by you, what are you thinking about?” Wynie said intermittently the most complete sentence to date.

Her eyes looked confused, but it turned to the calm of the past.

“Marx said, you are very dangerous…” Wynie looked down at the note that Marx gave her, and asked herself, “…What about me?”

She placed the crystal-like flowers on the pages of the book and went out as usual.